


Jorge's story

by RainbowLSparrow



Category: Ladybird Ladybird (1994)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27718037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowLSparrow/pseuds/RainbowLSparrow
Summary: This story is the result of an exercise carried out for a project that I had to do at university.It is a reinterpretation of the story of the film ladybird, ladybird by Ken Loach, from the point of view of Jorge, mate of the protagonist.Yes at university they make me do weird things!





	Jorge's story

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [La storia di Jorge](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24983038) by [RainbowLSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowLSparrow/pseuds/RainbowLSparrow). 



My name is Jorge, although now here in England, everyone calls me George. I'm actually Paraguayan.

There in Paraguay, I left everything. A family, a home, a job ... All things I loved! My job allowed me to help orphans, alleviate the suffering of those children, but those were things the government should have taken care of. It would have! But he didn't do that!

I will probably never forget that child, who, after witnessing his mother's death, at the hands of the soldiers, stared at the water so that he could somehow meet his mother again, through the same water that had taken her away from him. This is how the soldiers had killed her, and and that’s how he wanted to kill himself to rejoin her.

That wasn't fair! It couldn't be!

Probably that was the definitive breaking point, that and many other pre-existing microfractures.

I was considered a political enemy, and I was forced to flee, abandoning everything I had ever loved there.

I suffered a great deal and I cannot deny that I still suffer now.

I traveled! I traveled a lot!

Countries, cities, languages, cultures ... they followed one another endlessly. But it was London that changed my life.

I had recently arrived in London, when a night at the pub with a new friend turned into one of the most important moments of my life.

There was karaoke and one woman in particular immediately caught my attention. She was singing "The Rose" by Batte Midler and her performance was very heartfelt. Those emotions hitted me, there was suffering behind that smiling face. As soon as she got off the stage, I offered her a drink, she tried to resist, but I insisted so in the end she accepted.

It was she, Maggie, who first called me George, the name Jorge was difficult to pronounce.

It was an atypical first meeting, usually in these types of situations, one is never so open about one's own lives, little is revealed about oneself to the other, instead the understanding between us was born almost immediately. There was resistance on her part, but her words were always sincere.

Being then forced to say goodbye saddened me. But then, a sign of fate! She had forgotten her wallet on the table. I immediately ran after her, in order to bring it back. She was already on the bus, with a little stratagem, I managed to get the driver to stop and she got off the bus. Our evening continued, first in a club and then at my house.

I was already in love with her, but at that moment she only needed a friend. So I stayed close to her, when a few days later at the court they definitively removed the custody of her four children and even after that. I stayed beside her! My visa was about to expire, I would have to leave again. But seeing her like that, I decided to take a risk. I didn't have a residence permit, so a lot of things would have been a risk, but somehow we would have managed it. Our friendship began to evolve and she began to reciprocate my feelings.

We decided to move to a new home to start a new chapter in our life.

Maggie was pregnant, we were expecting a baby girl. The house was better than the one we lived in before, but we still didn't know how much trouble the neighbors would have cause us.

Maggie was increasingly fragile. Anything was enough to make her burst into tears or scream in anger.

I was patient and I stayed close to her, I had my problems with work, but I did everything to be able to also support her.

When the baby was born, we both felt immense joy. Maggie seemed to be calmer and happier again, but it didn't take long to break our peace of mind. One day social workers came accompanied by the police and took our little girl away. I was at work at the time, but as soon as Maggie's friends came to call me I ran home.

We were initially given the chance to meet her. Social workers and health inspectors came to our home to ask us questions very often. At first I managed to convince Maggie to remain calm in the face of the situation, and it seemed to succeed. But the more time passed, the more people came to our house, the less easy it was for her to stay calm. If it could be difficult for a calm and controlled person like me, for a person like her, it was a titanic undertaking. One day during one of these visits she snapped and that was the last visit before the court hearing.

She began to pour out her anger on me as well. That anger wasn't really directed at me, but I was the only person standing next to her and I was the only one who wouldn't shut the door on her face for all that anger. Because I knew perfectly well it wasn't unjustified.

The situation was wearing me too!

I could not fully understand her pain probably, but in my own way I felt it.

And I suffered. I suffered with her.

At the hearing, things went worse than expected, there were prejudices towards Maggie's parental ability, given her background and there were also on my account, I was a foreigner, fled my country, being considered an enemy of the government and for moreover, our neighbor had testified in such a way that it seemed that I was a violent person.

In the end they took the baby from us for good.

Also, if that wasn't enough, they had discovered that my residence permit had long since expired and I would have to face another hearing in which they would decide whether to send me back to Paraguay or not.

Although the outcome of at least this hearing was positive, Maggie was struggling to rejoice at this, she was reliving that hell again and again.

Time passed and we decided to try again. We would try again until we succeeded. Another beautiful baby, the time of delivery was difficult. Maggie was not cooperating with the nurses, she was afraid they might take her away too. In fact, our joy lasted very little. We didn't even had the time to take the baby home, they took her away, while we were still in the hospital. It was one of the worst experiences of my life, even worse than our first daughter. Maggie was so broken by what was happening that she tried to jump out the window. I stopped her.

When we got home, she blamed me for what had happened. She was more and more broken, she yelled at me. She insulted me and told me that I should have stop the cops and social workers from taking the child away and not her who was trying to kill herself.

That was a very bad fight, probably our worst.

We were both broken and everything seemed uncertain. To recover at least in part from that trauma, it was very difficult! As time went by, things returned to normal between us and we tried again. This time and the next three our children stayed with us. But I will never forget my first two daughters, however little they have been with us. Like Maggie, she won't forget all her kids. Although we have not been allowed to see them again.


End file.
